


All I Do Is Keep the Beat and Bad Company

by Thette



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Criminals, Alternate Universe - Mob, Anal Sex, Arranged Marriage, Bisexual Leonard Snart, Criminal Barry Allen, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Families of Choice, Family Feels, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Gay Barry Allen, Homophobia, Inspired By Tumblr, Light BDSM, Light Bondage, Lingerie, M/M, Marriage of Convenience, Married Barry Allen/Iris West, Spanking, Teasing, Unsafe Sex, criminal iris west, gay mick rory, not joe west friendly, sorry but it fit the au, you know this is an AU because Iris is a good cook
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-25 00:33:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17111066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thette/pseuds/Thette
Summary: In which Boss Barry Allen is married to the daughter of Boss Joe West. Unfortunately, he's also gay as a picnic basket.The solution? It involves Boss Cold, of the Rogues, and his enforcer Heatwave, one peace treaty, two neighbouring houses, one secret tunnel, and a liberal approach to the definition of "family".





	All I Do Is Keep the Beat and Bad Company

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tobyaudax](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tobyaudax/gifts).



> Written for Tobyaudax, for the DCTV Secret Santa 2018. I managed to get two of their prompts in one!
>
>> 1\. ColdWest, domestic. Anything cozy, established relationship. AU or canon(-ish) is fine.  
> 2\. FlashWave. Barry casually crossdressing- underwear/lingerie and/or dresses/skirts. Either first getting together or established relationship- no preference. Smut OK but not required. 
> 
> Beta read by [name temporarily redacted], who does a fantastic job, and makes everything better.
> 
> I was inspired by a Tumblr post, about [how to fix Romeo and Juliet](http://nanyoky.tumblr.com/post/90956091108).
>
>> Marriage of convenience between Juliet and Mercutio.
>> 
>> Think about it.
>> 
>> Juliet’s parents want her to marry into the Prince’s family. Mercutio is a good compromise between no marriage and Paris.
>> 
>> Mercutio probably won’t get his inheritance if he keeps being HELLA FUCKING GAY ALL OVER THE PLACE so a beard is only a benefit to him.
>> 
>> They would probably get along great rolling their eyes at how adorably stupid Romeo is.
>> 
>> Romeo and Benvolio could get a “bachelor pad” right next to Juliet and Mercutio’s house. Every night, Romeo and Mercutio high five as they hop the fence to go bang their one true love.

_ The decade long war between the Central City crime families West and Allen had ended, when Boss Joe West had promised his oldest daughter, Iris, to Boss Henry Allen's only son Barry. The wedding had been a huge public affair, and the two families had kept the peace ever since. Boss West was training his son Wally for takeover, and Barry had stepped in as the new Boss Allen, after his father was killed in a shoot-out with the Santini family. The combined fury of the Wests and the Allens had driven the Santinis out of Central City, and the once proud crime family was relegated to a few blocks in Keystone. _

_ The new Boss Allen had made his claim on the Santini's territory, and the only contenders had been the newly formed Rogues gang. Not a Family, as such, although Boss Cold and his sister were in the lead, but a loose association of people who has been rejected from the Families. A secret meeting between Boss Allen and his wife, and Boss Cold and his close friend and enforcer Heatwave, lead to a new peace treaty. The Rogues were officially one of the major players in the underworld of Central City. _

_ One of the conditions of the treaty made Boss West raise an eloquent eyebrow. His daughter was to live with her husband at the edge of the territory, with Boss Cold as their neighbor on the other side of the border. _

_ "Call it an easy way to take mutual hostages," Boss Allen had said, with his usual insolent grin. "West, I needed to get out of the mansion where my mother was killed," he added, more seriously. Boss West had grown fond of the boy over the years, and when Iris joined the discussion with her puppy dog eyes, he knew he'd fold. _

_ "Still think it's a bad idea. Don't trust that Cold guy one bit," Boss West replied, but he understood where his son-in-law was coming from. The adjacent houses were modest, fit for their accountant and journalist cover stories, and Allen had kept one of his father's other mansions for official Family business, so West couldn't even complain about how today's youth were ruining the great traditions. _

_ "Don't worry, Dad," Iris said, "I'll have him eating out of my hand in no time." _

***

"Taste this," Iris said, blowing on a spoon of homemade shrimp chowder, before reaching it out to her lover.

"It's not Grandma Esther's recipe, is it?"

"Len," she said, putting all of her considerable authority into her voice. "Who do you take me for? I grew up on her cooking. Of course it isn't."

He tasted it, smacked his lips and licked them. "Good, but it needs a bit more white wine and paprika." 

"Wine for the soup," she poured a generous helping into the pot, and filled her own glass halfway full, "and wine for the cook." 

He stepped into her personal space, wrapping his large arms around her tiny waist, and slowly let his hands wander upwards, the fingertips working their way in under her mustard yellow shirt. She smiled at him and tilted her head, giving him access to her neck. He followed her lead, like he followed nobody else, and left a trail of soft kisses along her spine. 

The door slammed open, letting in a gust of ice cold winds and a flurry of snowflakes. 

"What are you doing with my wife?" Barry asked, red in the face, with his hand on the hilt of the gun in a hidden holster. He threw his coat vaguely in the direction of the coat hanger, and strode into the kitchen, never taking his eyes off them. Once there, he crowded them against the counter, using all of his height to tower over them. 

"Hi, honey," she said, and they both fell into a laughing fit. He loved pretending to be the jealous husband, even though he had made it perfectly clear on their wedding night that he had no intention to stop her from sleeping with others.

Barry pressed a small kiss to her cheek, his lips still chilly, and she did the same to him. He might be as gay as a box of birds, but he was still very affectionate with her. When they got engaged, and he told her the secret of his sexual orientation, she had been prepared to have nothing more than a marriage of convenience, for the rest of her life. She did love him, like a friend, and would have been happy that way. Then, they had both burst into the lives of their lovers, guns blazing, and everything had clicked into place. She shook her head, leaving the reverie behind.

On her left, Barry challenged Len in a complicated greeting ritual, all done with facial expressions. Eventually, Len gave in, and with an over-exaggerated eyeroll, he presented his cheek for a kiss, too.

"You two think it's so funny, but one day, you're gonna give me a heart attack with your dramatics, Scarlet," he grumped.

"I'm sorry,  _ old man _ , who are you calling dramatic?"

Iris wiggled out of their embrace, to stir the pot and sip wine, tuning them out. She knew better than to get involved when they were banter flexing. Oh, she could beat them at this game if she wanted to, but she didn't delight in it the way they did, and her banter had a tendency to get a bit too mean if she didn't watch her tongue. With one glass of wine in her, it was probably for the best if she abstained.

The two men she loved the most let their battle come to a seemingly mutually satisfying conclusion. Len appeared to have won this round, and Barry was laughing again, his green eyes twinkling in the candlelight. He left them to the cooking, and went to set the table and pick up his clothes. Len was still chuckling as he let her catch him in her arms, let her touch that strong and solid chest under his satin shirt, let her rest her cheek against his broad back.

"Where's Mick?" Barry asked, eager to meet his lover as always.

"Getting cleaned up," Len replied. "Sends his apologies, but work was… grimier than usual." He focused on Barry. "And no, don't even think about joining him in the shower."

"I wasn't... "

Len raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, fine, okay, I was thinking about that. Anything to get this damn paperwork off my mind. I'm gonna have to go through the last five years of our books  _ and  _ the permit records at City Hall, to find out which one of the clerks isn't staying bought." He pouted, a childish look that Iris never understood how he could pull off, when he could shoot a disloyal lieutenant through the head without blinking. "Do we need more wine? I should go get more wine."

Iris shook her head with a smile. The secret tunnel between their houses ran through the wine cellars, and this was definitely Barry hoping to catch Mick as he got out of the shower.

"Go," she said. "Go make out with your boyfriend."

He rushed off, doing that white person half jog thing. She rested her head in her hand, endlessly amused.

***

_ The Rogues, they called themselves. Cute, Barry thought. Moving in on his territory, the land he had bought in blood and paid in suffering? Less cute. He straightened his maroon corduroy suit and checked his Uzi. This nonsense was coming to an end. Behind him, Iris strapped an extra Glock to her belt. He loved the way she looked when she was ready to kill. The most amazing BFF a mob boss could ever marry. She smiled at him, all teeth, and he took an extra moment to appreciate her before giving Woodward the command to kick the door in. _

_ Woodward didn't live through the first attack wave on the Rogues' stronghold, and he wasn't the only foot soldier to bite the dust. Barry and Iris were crouched behind a crate, planning their next move. Before they had the time to gather their forces for the next attack, three figures appeared. They were backlit from above the stairs they were descending, looking like angels behind their police issue bullet proof shields. Barry saw no reason to change his assessment when they stood fully inside the room. God, the two men were gorgeous. The one taking the front had cheekbones for days, and his lips looked like they were made for cocksucking. His perfectly tailored blue suit made him look like a GQ model. The one backing him up was strong, almost bear-ish, with a wild and reckless grin on his face and a flamethrower in his hands, and Barry wanted to climb him like a tree. On the other side of the male model was an equally gorgeous woman, her brown locks framing her face like a gloria. Something about her reminded him of Iris, when she was mad and didn't want to show it, but someone was sure to bite the dust if she didn't get her way. _

_ "Allens!" shouted the man in the blue suit. If he spoke for them, that'd make him Cold. "Hold your fire, and we can talk." _

_ "Why should we talk to you upstarts?" Barry shouted back. _

_ "I'm sending in my sister. Send in your wife. That way, nobody fires." _

_ Iris looked at him, her eyebrows raised and her eyes wide open. He reached out for her, squeezed her hand, and looked at her again. She nodded curtly. _

_ "Hold your fire!" Barry shouted, and Iris started walking across the warehouse. In the middle, Cold's sister Golden Glider met her, no obvious protection on her person. She shook Iris' hand, staying at a respectful distance. He desperately wanted to know what they were talking about. He even more desperately wished that none of his men reported to West about this. Iris was reckless as hell, but this was worse than usual. The two women embraced each other and laughed. _

_ Iris swaggered back, and Barry counted the steps. Three, two, one… She was safe. _

_ She leaned in, whispering in his ear. "We've got a date for a peace treaty negotiation." _

***

Barry rushed up the steps to Mick's private suite, taking the steps two at a time.

"Mick!" he shouted, knowing better than to surprise the bruiser.

"In 'ere, Red," was the reply from the bathroom.

Barry threw the door open, with just one look at the pile of clothes soiled with blood and mud. No, he was more interested in ogling his lover's broad back and sturdy ass. The memory of his tongue in that ass made him drool. He wiped his mouth discreetly as Mick turned around, grinning just as widely and derangedly as he had the first day they'd met. 

Before Barry knew it, he was swept up in Mick's strong arms, and carried to the marble counter. He laughed, throwing his legs around Mick's waist, inviting him in.

Mick always kissed like it was the last time they'd ever get close, and in their line of work, it made sense. His tongue worked its way into Barry's mouth, muffling his laughter and turning it into helpless little moans.

"You wearing those little things I got ya?" Mick asked in between kisses, and Barry guided his hand down to the lining of his pants. Mick waggled his eyebrows when he felt the edge of the satin panties. "Tonight, I'm gonna fuck you when you're wearing them. See that pretty little ass all red and shiny for me."

"Hnnngh, you should turn my ass even more red," Barry said, grinding up against Mick. They were both hard, and he wanted nothing more than to get spanked and fucked properly. 

"Spank you hard, then eat you out, then fuck you 'til kingdom come?"

"Please, Mick, pleeease!" He wasn't ashamed about begging, and he was already halfway to an amazing orgasm, just from the dirty talking and dry humping.

"Red alert, red alert," said a woman's polite voice. Crap. That was Iris' emergency button, overriding the silent mode on his phone. This time of the night, it most likely meant her father was heading over.

"Fuck, Mick, I hate to ask for a raincheck, but we need to go."

***

_ The peace talks had gone better than any of them had expected, not the least because Mick and Cold were both hilarious and really nice. Barry wasn't even sure by now who they were flirting with, him or Iris or them both. They were two bottles of whiskey and three different maps into the night, when Cold grabbed Iris' hands, still holding the pen, and drew a simple border. Iris, who never got flustered, started babbling much like Barry had done when he was a teenager, and Cold smirked. He withdrew slowly and deliberately, and leaned back, one leg hitched dramatically over the other. _

_ "How about we call it a night on the official negotiations, and start dealing in the unofficial ones?" _

_ "Huh?" Barry asked, probably a little more drunk than he should let himself be in the presence of his enemies. _

_ Mick, who hadn't said a lot, leaned forward, his eyes never leaving Barry's. "People talk. And I ain't blind." _

_ Barry looked away, blushing. He really did not want to know what people said about him. Really not. _

_ "What, exactly, are you offering?" Iris asked, much more alert. Her eyes were gleaming, and it looked like she was having the time of her life. _

_ "Well, seems to me your husband is, how shall we say this, playing for the other team. Which should leave you, my poor dear, with the own goals. And that's a terrible fate for such a lovely lady." _

_ She actually tittered at that comment. Rude. _

_ "Meanwhile, Mick and I, we've been partners since juvie, but not that kind of partners." _

_ "I like 'em twinky," Mick said with a wink. "And Len ain't been a twink since we started shaving." _

_ "I, personally, shoot from both barrels," Cold said. Barry groaned and buried his head in his hands. That was a terrible pun, especially from a man who favored the sawed-off shotgun. "But what I really like is someone with guts and brains. Like you, Ms West-Allen." He looked away immediately, as if he'd said too much.  _

_ "So, what are you suggesting?" Barry asked, still not getting his head around the matter. _

_ "Nothing official, of course. But I've seen you ogling my friend, Allen. All I'm saying, is that I can give your wife what you can't, and Mick can give you what she can't." _

_ "Ooooh," Iris said, drawing the sound out. "I like the idea. Barry?" _

_ Barry's cheeks were blazingly red. _

_ "Admit it, Scarlet, you're tempted," Cold teased. _

_ Of course he was tempted. He'd never had a man's big, strong arms around him, never got the pleasure to sink down on a real, warm cock. All his life, he'd kept up the facade of being straight, and now their former enemies were offering… _

_ "What's the catch?" he asked. _

_ "No catch. A mutually beneficial arrangement." _

_ "I know!" Iris exclaimed, waving the pen around. "I know how to fix this!" She added a clause to the treaty, and showed it to them. Cold broke out in an uncharacteristic grin, but Barry still didn't understand how being neighbours could fix this. "Barr, we make it work! We install a tunnel between the houses, and then we can come and go as we please! Nobody needs to know!" _

_ He loved it when she got enthusiastic like that. Her face lit up the whole room, and he couldn't take his eyes off her. Neither could Cold, apparently. Huh. He really seemed to like her… _

***

"Hiiiiii, Dad!" Iris went to meet Joe at the door, giving him a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek.

"Hi, squirt," he murmured to her neck. "Didn't know you'd be having guests over."

"Don't worry, we can set another plate at the table," she said, looking nervously at Len, who was standing in the corner of the room, his posture extremely stiff.

Joe narrowed his eyes at him, waiting for him to speak first.

"West," Len said with a nod. Iris winced a bit. She knew the reason he insisted on not using the Boss honorific, because they were technically on the same level. That didn't mean her father would be less likely to murder him for it, though.

"Cold," Joe replied, his voice just as chilly as his word. "Didn't expect you here."

"Just a little neighbourly peacekeeping," he said with a dramatic swirl of his hands in the air. Iris took a deep gulp of the wine.

"Honey, where's Allen?" Joe asked. "Did he leave you alone with  _ him _ ?"

"Oh, he's just picking up some more wine from the wine cellar," she said, hoping that he'd be back any minute now.

"Heatwave is keeping him company, and I'm watching Iris cook," Len said. "Trust but verify."

"We would never---" she gasped in shock at the implication. Poison them? Only cowards used poison. Real mobsters used guns.

Len smirked in reply, as if he'd read her mind.

"Hey, Glock, is this what you asked for?" Mick held up two bottles of the wine she'd already used for the chowder, and she smiled at the nickname. Yeah, the first time they met, she'd gone in, guns blazing. There were worse nicknames. Sara Lance seemed to be stuck with "Blondie," despite being a formidable assassin, and Zari Tomaz, tech girl for the Rogues for the last ten years, was still "New Girl" according to Mick.

"Perfect, thank you Mick, thank you Barry." They were looking a little disheveled, but not as obviously fucked out as she might have expected.

"West, what a surprise!" Barry said, keeping his irritation under wraps, and making it sound like he was delighted for the visit.

"Allen, can't believe you left my daughter alone with  _ him _ ," Joe said disapprovingly, still glaring at Len.

"Oh, he's harmless, like a big, fluffy kitten," Barry replied. Did he want to die? Joe's eyes were nearly bulging out of their sockets, and Len was coughing, trying not to swallow his tongue.

Iris sighed, and tried to get ready for some actual peacemaking at the dinner table.

***

When the dinner was cleaned away, and Joe had  _ finally  _ left, Iris sighed deeply, and leaned into Len on the couch. "It would be so much easier if we could just  _ tell him _ , you know?"

Barry, cuddled up in Mick's lap, sighed his agreement. "Not until he's retired. Wally's gonna understand. He's queer, too."

"We're gonna be the gayest mob ever," Len said with a laugh.

"I'll drink to that," Mick said, beer in hand, now that they didn't need to be fancy anymore with the expensive wine. Barry smiled, burrowing closer to his warm chest. Mick's eyes were distant, focused on the flames, but he wrapped his arms around Barry's waist and squeezed. One hand wormed its way down past the lining of his slacks, distractedly fondling the top of the satin panties. Barry pulled a blanket around them, not wanting to give Iris a show. Iris rolled her eyes fondly and rubbed her cheek against Len.

"We talk a lot about Families," she said, "but you, you guys are my family."

"Not the family you're born with, but the family you choose," Len murmured, and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

Watching them be this soft around each other felt more invasive than the time Barry had walked in on them having sex. He suddenly needed to leave, to be alone with Mick.

"Uh, we should…" He rose, dragging the blanket along with him, not wanting to leave its warmth. "Iris, Len, goodnight."

"Goodnight, Barry," Len said, with a smile that was as far from his Cold persona as he could possibly get. They didn't break out the first names often, but if they were family, as Iris said, maybe they should try it. Maybe they should work on leaving their boss hats at the door.

"Goodnight, Barry. Which room…?" Iris asked.

"Can I have ours?" The four poster bed was magnificent, and it had been a long while since he last got to use it. Iris waved them upstairs in reply, clearly too busy making eyes at Len to be upset about being displaced.

"Boss, Glock," Mick said as they walked up. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

Len just snorted, clearly all too aware of Mick's escapades.

***

"Mick, pleeeeease…" Barry whined. Mick just grunted, and slapped his already aching ass hard. The movement pushed his cock into the pillow under his hips, straining the ropes around his ankles. He groaned from the triple sensations, and from the loss of Mick's tongue lapping at his hole.

"You get fucked when I say you get fucked, Red," he grunted, going back to teasing Barry slowly. One single finger moving in and out, barely even a stretch, not even close to his prostate. His tongue, peeking out rapidly and then withdrawn. Mick hadn't even touched his cock, and when Barry had tried to hump the pillow, he'd gotten another spanking. He'd never been this frustrated in his life.

So, this was it, this was how Boss Barry Allen died. Not in a blaze of glory, but from sexual frustration, tied up in bed. Barry started laughing and crying, both at once.

Everything behind him stopped. "You okay there, Red?"

He drew a deep breath, and then another, but the tears were still running. "Yeah… No… I don't know… Mick?"

"I've got ya, Red." Before he knew what was happening, he was untied, sitting up, and held in Mick's strong arms. "Wasn't what I meant by teasing you 'til you cry."

Barry huffed a laugh. "Just… Just too much." He pulled Mick's face down to his own, and kissed him deeply. "Don't stop."

"Didn't plan to." 

Without losing his grip, Mick shifted them around, so Barry was straddling him. Their hard cocks were trapped between their stomachs, and Barry couldn't resist grinding down. Mick raised an eyebrow and stilled, silently threatening to go back to teasing. It wasn't until Barry relaxed that he started moving again, pulling the panties to the side and pressing up with two thick fingers, slick with lube, against Barry's hole.

"Oooh…" he said, relaxing and letting them in. Mick grinned at him and looked over his shoulder, pleased with his handiwork.

"You're taking them so good, Red. Can't wait to get inside you." He punctuated his words with sloppy kisses to Barry's shoulders and chest.

Barry arched his back, getting a hand around Mick's thick cock. "Want you, want you now."

"Why the rush?" he chuckled. "Don't want to hurt you." He added another finger, and Barry pushed back eagerly on them.

"Mmm… I can ride you, take as much as I can, go slow."

One more slap on his sore ass. "Slow, huh? You ain't never been slow in your life, Speedy."

Barry grinned in reply. "I can do slow."

Mick laid back, hands behind his head and a challenge in his eyes. "Show me, then."

Challenge accepted. Barry reached for the lube, carefully slicking up Mick's cock, and adding a bit of a twist to his strokes. Mick gasped, and Barry beamed with joy. Yeah, he could tease, too. More lube, for himself. He straddled Mick's belly, getting ready with a leisurely stretch. His own fingers were so much thinner than Mick's, and he could sink four fingers in easily. His other hand behind him, to grab Mick's cock and slide the head over his cheeks and along the edge of the panties. Slowly, teasingly. Mick's eyes were closed, and he was gaping slightly, but not making a single sound. Barry decided he'd waited long enough, and started sinking down on Mick's cock. It always burned at first, getting the thick head past the muscles, and he winced slightly. No hurry. He let himself relax, enjoying the stretch, moving just fractions of an inch at a time.

"Fuck, Allen, you're killing me!"

It was always a victory when Mick used his real name. Barry clenched and relaxed, listening to the litany of curses spilling from Mick's kissable lips. A little more, maybe he'd taken a third or so of Mick's cock by now. Mick's hands gripping his hips, holding him without pushing. Slowly, slowly he started rocking, an inch or two up and down, taking a little more with every movement. Damn, he felt so full. So good. He could feel his eyes rolling up in his head when Mick's cock started touching his prostate. So good. Just a little bit more…

"Fuck, that ass of yours is so sweet!"

Barry leaned forward, touching his lips against Mick's and breathing, not even a real kiss. Just being there, in his space, feeling Mick around him and in him. Breathing, touching, their whole bodies in contact. 

"I'm done with slow, now," he said with a smile and sat up. He started to ride properly, slamming up and down, chasing his own orgasm. Mick held his cock in a tight grip, making a tunnel for Barry to fuck into, and switched the other hand between pinching his nipples and spanking him. It didn't take him long to come, his heart pounding so loudly he barely heard Mick's grunts and stunted, puffed breaths. Barry collapsed on Mick's chest, getting them both sticky and uncomfortable.

"Can I keep going?"

Barry nodded, and Mick bent his knees for leverage, driving deeply into him with strong rolls of his hips. It didn't take long until he started getting silent, holding his breath as his movement became slower and more intense. Mick never made much noise when he came, but Barry knew that when he stopped breathing, he was close. With all the energy he had left, he squeezed, pushing Mick over the edge.

As he rolled off his lover, he could hear him sigh deeply. Barry didn't have the energy to go get washed properly, but he could clean them both up with a wet wipe. 

When he was done, Mick grabbed him and pulled him to his chest. They usually fell asleep without much cuddling, but Barry was always happy when Mick gave him some physical affection. For someone who could always get what he wanted with a snap of his fingers, he was all too afraid to ask for it. He didn't want Mick to think he was obliged to be as lovey-dovey as Len was with Iris.

"I don't like the way he talks to you." Mick's voice rumbled in his chest. "Like he owns you."

"Who? Joe?" When Mick nodded, Barry continued. "He's family. And Family. I owe him so much. And I can't exactly let him know. He'd kill me, you and everyone in our combined crews."

"Izzit true?"

"What?"

"What she said. That we're your family." Mick didn't meet his eyes, looking at everything and nothing in the bedroom. 

Barry could feel his face melt into a warm smile. "Yeah."

"Huh," Mick said, and refused to elaborate. He hadn't let Barry go, though, one hand roaming slowly across Barry's back and the other ruffling his hair.

"Mick Rory, are you fishing?" Barry rose halfway to sitting, leaning on his arm. Mick still refused to look at him. Barry couldn't stop himself from kissing his bald head. "Oh, you wonderful caveman! Of course I love you. I just… I didn't think that's what you wanted to hear."

Mick turned around, a small smile playing on his lips. Barry nuzzled up against his warm back, wrapping his arms around Mick's hairy belly. He wasn't sure, but he thought he could hear a soft murmur. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but he thought Mick might have said something about love, too.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I appreciate every comment and kudo, even though I'm bad at replying to comments.
> 
> Title from Dire Strait's [Romeo and Juliet](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mxfjSnMN88U), which is a very sad, but lovely song. I can also recommend [Indigo Girl's cover](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0fiXkvsKpdk), which is angry and so, so gay.


End file.
